I hear the wailing of horrors to come
terrible times waiting in the wings.
I listen to the expectations of
crashes, stoppages, gliches, and death.
the extintion of souls.
Wondering, deep inside myself
if this will be the apocolypse?
If so, what will be the outcome?
the death of the computer god?
Nietsche claimed god was dead
Rosemary's neighbors sang the line
I guess they never sat at a keyboard.
I sit, in my library
full of things called books
and stare at the flickering screen,
the diety of society
glaring at me, its reluctant apostle
daring me, to live without
its benevolent guidance and tutelage.
I smile at its all seeing eye
as I realize that its demize
may be my salvation.
My serfdom may be ended
without my need for revolt.
Y2K may kill this god
and leave me free to see
the beauty of the world
through a window that needs no plug.
I sit back at marvel at the wall
lined with pages of script,
old scrolls wrapped in skin
now replaced by paper bound in leather
parchment replaced by cotton fiber
squid ink replaced by heat cured toner.
yet the words placed upon these tomes
will not die by the change of the date.
I look back grudgingly at the god
one eye glowing, 101 teeth sitting,
waiting for the touch of my fingers.
A god which can perform miracles
but only through my faith and service.
The urge to kill the god fills me
Why 2k? I ask. Why not now?
I reach for the O/- to extinguish
the power of this horrid lord.
Yet, reluctantly I relent,
and instead I touch the teeth
and return to my daily prayers.